Repetition
by enaskoritsi
Summary: It’s wrong. Everything is going wrong. Nothing’s working...Was my art actually bowing to this...amateur? Never! My art...my art could never be defeated! It’s impossible to physically stop a storm, and it will be impossible to douse this final explosion!


_Disclaimer :_ I do not own Naruto or anything associated.

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.:. Repetition .:.

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It's wrong. Everything is going wrong. Nothing's working. He's blocking all my attacks, every single one. For perhaps only the second time in my life...

I'm losing.

I've gone through every explosive, from C1 to C4. Every beautiful artwork I had slaved over through strenuous hours of training...destroyed in mere moments, by nothing more than a...kid.

I can't take it. The aftermath of each explosion rings in my ears painfully, the ecstasy I expected coming short. They're mocking calls, my own creations taunting me, jeering at my failure. Was my art actually bowing to this...amateur?

No. Never! My art...my art could never be defeated! It's superior to this brat in every way, no matter what angle you look at it. Even with those eyes...

I hate them. I loath the very existence of the sharingan, with its contemptuous glances and despicable pride, the undying confidence. Those uncaring stares, as if I'm just a waste of time, a boring, worthless speck on the face of the earth, so easy to ignore, so simple to crush.

That red. It's so stale, so...passive. It is not like the panicked crimson of freshly spilled blood, scattered on the ground and lining the air after someone has been detonated. That has life, even if it glowing from a past one, but those eyes...they are dead. Those irises are rotting from the inside out from their own apathy, their ignorance of the fantastic tributes that are my sculptures.

Even now, he looks at me without even seeing, annoyed, like I'm some pest that he cannot seem to squish. I'm an Akatsuki, one of the highest, deadliest, and elite ninjas of the known world. The first syllable of my name sends spasms of fear ricocheting through anyone foolish enough to hear it, and it burns acidly in the one still foolish enough to utter it. Yet he underestimates me, ignores my abilities. With every word I utter he only stares, stares with those grotesque eyes that never stop with their silent enmity, their cruel laughter.

This is all just a game to him, one he's becoming tired of playing. I'm just the first round, a pitiful, useless lackey that he's going to pound into until I gasp out the information that he needs. His brother...Itachi; that's all that matters, the only reason he's putting up with this revolting excuse of a fight.

He'll never get it. I'll shove a bomb down his prideful throat and watch him burst, enjoy how the skin constricts and grows tighter as the force inside begins to bubble, how the blood vessels pop from the pressure and how those eyes will grow round and frightened, but only for seconds until it's all over. It won't matter how short those moments are, because I'm remember them forever, until I see the same look imprinted on that bastard's face. And I'll laugh, laugh as those eyes burst into nothing but that true red of blood.

He thinks its over. I can see it, sense it in his movements, the way they've become sluggish and almost unskilled as we face each other. Both our chakra levels are almost depleted, which is a blow of itself. For me to run out of chakra to an inexperienced child such as this...well I'll never live it down. Not that that matters now, since I won't be doing much living soon.

I almost had him, so many times I saw him die before my eyes, both of them. I watched his body disintegrate, that emotionless face filled to the brim with fear, fear of me and my art! It was all an illusion, a genjutsu like so many others, a trick. I'm tired of it! I want to see to real fear, real anxiety and panic in that face! I want him to know that he is going to die, feel the explosion ripping apart his body until there is nothing left!

I know it's time now. The pulling at my chest is insatiable, and the knowledge that this is my end seeps through my conscious. I've waited for this day for so long, the chance to stun the world with the glorious existence of my art. It's finally come, but at such a price.

Itachi Uchiha will not die by my hands.

The thought burns a little, seething in my throat, but it's easy to swallow back down and almost sizzle out. I have his brother's life now, and I'm going to twist it until there's nothing left, not one skin cell of stray strand of raven hair. Itachi won't have that grand fight he's been planning all these years; I've ripped that victory away from him at least. And those eyes will see fear, fear that they have never known!

I can already see it as the thread splits in my bleeding hands, the clay tainted with faint red patches as its devoured. That calculating, masked expression...it can't hide the bewilderment carved clearly into those battered features. He doesn't know what's to come, even as the heat begins radiating out of my pores to crackle in the air like thunder. It's impossible to physically stop a storm, and it will be impossible to douse this final explosion!

I can feel it eating away inside of me, filling me with more energy and friction than a human is ever meant to experience. I love the feeling. This power surging through my veins, silently screaming out to the world it's ultimate demise, with no way to stop it.

I stand, and step closer, and watch the Uchiha frozen and unable to flee. I can't stop the grin from warping my face as it finally bursts with the detonation.

He'll finally know...They'll all have to admit...

Art is a bang!

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_Author's Note : _I don't know why I keep writing these things, but I reread Deidara's death today in the manga and couldn't resist. I know there are many stories already centered around Deidara's final scenes, but I wanted to give it a shot of my own. I really wanted to give it a more...insane feel, though I probably failed. Whenever I read these chapters, my heart kind of aches for him, haha, overdramatic as I am. To me, Deidara's insanity is what makes him such an amazing character, and it saddens me I do not often find stories that center around this aspect of him (not to insult anyone of course!)

Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes I missed, and thanks to my friend for proofreading it even though she doesn't have any idea what Naruto is.

Please review, and thanks for reading.


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